


The Haunted

by VisceralGod



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: A lot - Freeform, A reverse harem, And there's a ton of swearing, Character development is what I do ok, Crime is bad, Don't break and enter places, F/M, Haunted house??, Reader is edgy, Reader is emotionally immature, SSLL-inspired, This is largely self-indulgent, like badly, not as good tho, oh boy, please
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-03-17 18:30:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13664796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisceralGod/pseuds/VisceralGod
Summary: Exploring Ebott's haunted mansion? You're game.





	1. On the Inside

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Skeleton Squatters and the Landlady](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9816140) by [Tyrant_Tortoise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyrant_Tortoise/pseuds/Tyrant_Tortoise). 



> Should I be working on something that's not SotM? Probably not. Am I? Yep. I want a harem of skeletons, too. We're probably gonna end up leaning US!Pap (and prolly UF-bros). Just saying. But really it's more of an emotional-maturing journey for the reader. Tryin' to get their life together.

“And there it is!” You folded your arms, pivoting on your heel to face your disgruntled friends. The trek through the woods had left the four of you scuffled and weary, but it wasn’t the first time you had embarked on what very well could have been a wild goose chase. ‘It’s the journey, not the destination!’ was a familiar cry to all of them.

                “So, it is.” The tallest of the group looked through the forest at the decrepit fence just a few meters away. She chuckled as she looked back toward you, before jokingly pulling your hoodie over your head, “I thought you just made it up to get us to hang out with you. Again.”

                “Piss off, Delilah!” You bristled, scowling as you stepped away from the taller girl’s touch and absently ruffled your hair back into place. You met the other two’s eyes before averting your gaze, “There’s not a lot of records about abandoned places like this, ‘right? It’s hit or miss sometimes.” You pointedly met your taller friend’s skeptical gaze, “Bitch.”

                “Always with the language, (Y/N). Thought your dear old dad taught you better for the cameras.” The tall red-head teased, sticking her tongue out. “How’d you even stay on the show with a mouth like that?”

                You felt your lips twitch before your usual smirk automatically took its place, “Throw enough cash at corporate dick riders and you can get away with anything.” You unstrapped the bat from your bag, twirling it as if to make your point. “Thought you knew that already?”

                “Alright, enough flirting, you two,” Penn cut in, literally stepping between the two of you, “We should check it out before it gets dark.” He looked at you expectantly, gesturing toward the fence. “So, what should we expect inside?”

                There was silence for a minute, as the other two looked toward you, awaiting your answer. You stamped the bat on the ground, looking toward the manor. “…the fuck should I know?” You kicked the dirt, hoping the action would cover up the nerves threatening to make themselves known, “What part of ‘ _not a lotta records_ ’ wasn’t clear?”

                “Wait! Wait, wait, wait, _wait._ ” The normally quiet brunette stepped up, waving his hands, “You mean you _aren’t_ investigating this place for the show?” Ted pushed up his glasses, “You mean you dragged us out here without knowing _anything?_ ”

                You tilted your head, before shrugging halfheartedly, “Well. Yeah.” You looked up toward Penn and Delilah, securing their confirmation, before glancing back toward Ted, “…Isn’t that how it _always_ goes?”

                “Well, yes but— _No!_ ” Ted scowled, “If we go in there, we’ll be breaking and entering! Trespassing! Vandalizing! Not to mention upsetting whatever ghosts are actually _in there!_ ”

                “Theodore,” You sighed, leaning against your bat as you gestured toward the manor, “Don’t tell me you _actually_ buy into that shit.” You knew chastising him for it sounded ridiculous- coming from _you_ of all people- but his genuine fear of the supernatural seemed… laughable at best. The worst they were likely to find in there were squeaky floorboards and a pissed off raccoon, probably. “Ghosts aren’t real.”

                Ted didn’t seem particularly convinced at your declaration. “Okay, sure, _fine-_ ghosts aren’t real, but _cops_ are.” He folded his arms, adamantly making his stand, “I’m not going in there.”

                “You honestly think police are going to drive three hours from town, then hike _another one_ to come find us out here?” You sighed. You loved Ted- he kept the reigns on the group. His cautious nature kept you all from doing anything too outrageous… But it was frustrating arguing with him, sometimes. Especially about something as menial as this. What was even the point of arguing after coming all this way? What did he think they were searching for, anyway- a good picnic spot?

                “You don’t know _who’s_ in there! What if they have guns?” Ted dug his heels into the dirt, resisting Delilah’s tug on his arms. “I’m staying _right here._ ” At his argument, Penn clutched the straps of his bag. Ted was right. It was one thing to tag city walls, or maybe nick a lighter, but this? Maybe he had a point…

                “…He’s right.” Penn mumbled, “If this hasn’t been preapproved by your father, then… maybe we should head back.” Ted smiled at the approval. Sensing the betrayed glower he was receiving, he opted to chuckle, hoping to joke his way out of the situation, “Besides, I’ve seen the Blaire Witch Project. I ain’t going down like that.”

                You scratched absently at your arm, unsure if you wanted to call them out for not disagreeing earlier, or for the fact that Penn had willingly checked out abandoned places with you before. What was with the change in heart now? “There’s nothing in there- It’s _abandoned!_ ” You looked up at Delilah, hoping your silent plea for help wouldn’t be met with pity. “There’s not- no one’s in there- it’s not like—”

                “Don’t think they’re changing their mind, (Y/N).” Delilah murmured softly, shoving her hands in her leather jacket pockets. “Maybe it’s just best we head back. Get an okay from your dad and come back, y’know? We already know where it is.”

                You clenched her fist. Delilah, too, even? “What the _hell_ , you guys?” You bit out after a moment. Your first get together after months of being separated, and they all chicken out? Every single one of them? “Why would you- why did you even come if you were just going to-!”

                “(Y/N).” Penn said, eyebrows lowered slightly, “Don’t freak out. We’re not bailing or anything. We’ll just have to come back another day, that’s all.” He reached out to pat your shoulder before his hand was abruptly pushed back.

                “Oh no.” Delilah sighed, though an affectionate smile laid just underneath the layer of sarcasm, “Gonna throw a fit now?”

                “It’s not- I’m not throwing a fit!” You hissed, clutching your bat to your side, “Just- it’s just not fucking cool to do this, you know?” You hated the way that your anger and disappointment bubbled up and constricted your throat. Made your eyes burn. “I just wanted to hang out like old times, and- and you all-!”

                “It’s not that we don’t want to hang out.” Ted sighed, “We just don’t want to do something _risky._ ” He wasn’t sure if he felt a sense of guilt or catharsis at the tears that threatened to spill over. On the one hand, he knew you’d always been this way, but on the other, it was about time you were broken out of it. “You can’t just drag us out whenever, to do what _you_ want-”

                You weren’t sure if it was embarrassment from the tears or repressed anger you never knew you had but once the tears started, they just got worse. “Then you should’ve fucking stayed home, you- _you cunt!_ ” You tried to force your breathing to even out, “I didn’t- I only thought-”

                “Hey. Watch it.” Delilah’s serious tone drew your attention up to her amber eyes, “That’s the thing. You _didn’t_ think.” Her hands on your shoulders forced you to look up at her through your tears, “Listen. We don’t all have _daddy’s money_ to bail us out. Get it?”

                You felt that. You cringed, folding your arms across your chest. “Oh. Haha. That’s always it, isn’t it? I can’t just- I can never just _do_ anything without it being about the show? I can’t really just hang out with friends or do anything without my dad in the end, right?” You shook off Delilah’s arms, backing up, “Just because I’m not any- _fucking_ -thing without dad, am I right?”

                “No- it’s just- we can’t just _pay our way_ out of things like you can-” Ted pulled off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose, “We actually have to get _real_ jobs; we can’t _all_ have criminal records. It’s not so easy for us-”

                It shouldn’t hurt so much. It’d always been the butt of all the jokes you’d ever heard about yourself. Mopey delinquent rich kid with daddy issues. It’s always been right on the money, and you’d always just accepted what it was without question. You all did. So _why did it hurt?_ “I know- I’m not fucking-” You stammered over yourself, trying to catch your breath when you wiped furiously at your cheeks, “Why don’t you just-”

                “Why are you even getting upset?” Penn ventured, “Just relax. It’s not that serious.” Somehow, that even tone just managed to anger you more. Not that serious? _Not that serious?_ Maybe to him, but it felt like your closest friends were just turning on you- after you just wanted to be with them. In the end, everything was just about your dad, his show, and your family’s money. Just like it _always_ was. You thought your oldest friends wouldn’t have bought into that. That’s what you got for assuming, you supposed.

                “Let’s just all get back before this gets worse. She’ll throw her tantrum and get over it. Like always.” Delilah turned her back, heading back the way they came.

                “You’ll see a fucking _tantrum._ ” You hissed between your teeth. At first, it was the sting of abandonment. Everyone just turning their back on the plan that they’d all agreed on and then acting like it was unusual for you to be upset by it. Then, maybe it was the jab at your family- sure, your dad had money, but did you really have it _easier?_ Getting _repeatedly_ ripped away from what rare friends you made and everything you held dear, making money on some fraud tv show that was bound to go up in flames within the year? Of course, that burned. But the mix of them? Now it was just anger. Pure and searing bile and spite. Because- because how _dare_ they do that?

                You watched the trio shuffle off ahead of you, and the sense of… _camaraderie_ that just seemed to be emanating from them absolutely _seared_ you. Your grip on the bat tightened until your hands were red and shaking. You came out here to search that manor- friends be damned. You didn’t _need_ friends. You didn’t _need_ anyone! If they only wanted to travel out here to appease your father and get on the show, well- fine. Whoopty- _fucking-_ doo. You could explore every inch of that manor just fine _on your own._

                The manor’s tetanus-ridden rickety old fence was barely an obstacle. Other than the dull points at the top that seemed intent on snagging your jacket and bag, it was one of the easier ones you’d ever had to scale. Once you were on the other side, you ventured a glance over your shoulder. That disappointment you had to stamp down in your chest was stupid. That imposing sense of loneliness was _stupid._ With a scoff, you marched off toward the decaying building. The porch creaked as you neared the front door, the noise amplified in the silence. You went rigid; but immediately scolded yourself- ‘ _Just breathe. Nothing’s here. Literally. Just you. Alone.’_

It wasn’t even that you were _afraid_. You’d always liked the idea of ghosts and demons and the supernatural- always yearned to befriend the monsters under your bed as a child- but when you realized they didn’t exist and you’d always be alone, then somehow it was the mundane things that became terrifying. Like this porch caving in under you. Especially alone. But you’d made your decision. This manor was yours now and you’d conquer it before the idea of leaving ever even crossed you.

                You rattled the doorknob, shuddering at the feel of the rusted, lumpy metal against your palm. “Okay. Gross.” Despite your complaints, you yanked on the door a few times, groaning when it refused to budge. Of all the things that _didn’t_ decay in this ancient place, the _lock_ decided that it wanted to hold strong? “Well, fuck you, too, door.” You mumbled, flipping a double bird as you circled around, searching for a new entrance. And that window left ajar just slightly above your head seemed like the best option. Shoving the end of your bat under the window, you pushed it open, glad when it heeded your whims and opened all the way. You let go of your bat, hearing it clatter inside, likely knocking something over on its way down. Oh well. “Alright…” You hopped up, using the wall to climb the rest of the way, “…Now in we go…” You paused once you were halfway through the window, glancing around. The place seemed oddly… clear, for being abandoned. Nothing strewn about, no leaves on the floor or evidence of rats like you expected to be. Well. Guess that’d be part of the mystery you’d be solving once you started looking around.

                Pulling yourself through the window, you couldn’t help the startled yelp that left you as you tumbled to the floor. Much longer of a fall than you were expecting… It was just as much of a surprise when you hit the wood floor elbow-first. “ _Ow!_ Fucking _shit_!” You rolled over, rubbing your poor arm. “Stupid wood. Can’t these places ever use carpet…” Once the pain subsided, you observed the floor- besides your bat, which knocked over some sort vase- the floor was… shocking clean. Obviously old, with mars in the wood and lacking any sort of luster, but it was obvious someone had been here to sweep up the dust. Recently. “Who comes to some abandoned mansion to clean it up…?” You got to your feet, haphazardly sweeping the vase shards aside. Wouldn’t want to come back and get cut in the dark, after all. After getting your bat and securing your bag over your shoulder, you decided it was time to go wandering.

                The manor, first of all, was huge. At _least_ three floors, judging from the outside, with a sort of… archaic layout. Large, rounded windows, all obscured by thick curtains. The furniture, at least what little there was, was in tatters- and seemed oddly modern for such an old place- but you chalked it up to some runaways hauling it out here just to have a place to hang out. Not too unlike yourself, honestly. You sighed, following the walls to find a rounded staircase in the center of the house. “Fancy.” You tested the first step and was pleasantly surprised when it seemed stable enough to hold you. “Guess it’s better I’m by myself.”

                You listened intently to the sound of the house as you climbed the steps. If there was one thing that being on that show had taught you, it was when a building was unfit. The “haunted” houses you, your father, and the crews visited always seemed structurally unsound- whether they were just old or were staged that way. But this? Silent. Structurally silent. Other than the porch, the floors didn’t creak. The stairs were sturdy. No shuffling in the walls. No mice, no roaches. Quiet. _Proper_ quiet. Even the air was… _right_. Not stale, suffocating, like in some of the older places. And the thought that someone might actually be here was more unsettling than the thought of being alone.

                As you walked down the hall, the thought of entering one of the rooms finally occurred to you. You found yourself hesitating- and that had to be because of the building. The signs. Any place this sound was just… not right. Someone was here with you. Maybe you _were_ breaking and entering. But you couldn’t back out now- your friends were god knows how far away, and you’d already done the entering part. If someone was actually here, then you’d just have to get booked. Not like it was the first time.

                …So why were you nervous? What was with the hesitance? “Get it together.” You took a deep breath before reaching for the door knob. Just open it. Turn the handle. Open it. As you sighed again to steady your nerves, a familiar scent choked your lungs.

                Cigarette smoke?

                You froze. And now that you were aware of it, the feeling of someone standing behind you made your hair stand on end. You weren’t alone here. You slowly released your grip on the handle to bring your hand back down to your bat. You could see the shadow of someone just out of the corner of your eye- just at the edge of your peripheral vision- looming over you. Shallow breaths. Theirs or yours? You weren’t even sure. You cocked your head slightly, catching the peculiar contrast on their face before it registered. Pale white. Deep sunken eyes. Corpse like almost. You turned around, blinking rapidly to clear your view and to confirm that- Yes. This _is_ a zombie.

                You were going to die.

                The scream was ear-shattering. Your friends probably heard it from wherever they were in the forest. You wound up the bat and swung with all your might. **MISS!**

                That thing. Teleported. Or dodged. It _moved_. Oh fuck. “Fuck me—nope, NOPE!” Running wasn’t one of your favorite activities, but the way you hauled ass up those stairs, it might as well have been. As you got up to the top, you didn’t even bother to keep the bat- you just threw it behind you hoping it’d be some sort of deterrent. You knew you wouldn’t be as fast with it, anyway. And… hopefully there was only the one.

                Just as the thought crossed you, you collided with a large mass of… red _._ Just. _Red_. You nearly tripped over it in your hurry to get away, and until you took stock of what had gotten into your path, you hadn’t realized that it, too, was a zombie. Wearing a coat? “F-Fu-uck this!” You felt the wood scrape your knees- tearing holes in your leggings as you scrambled to stand up. “Oh shit- oh my god!” A confused grumble reached your ears and immediately the only thing blaring in your mind was, ‘ _Abort! ABORT!! OUT! GET OUT!!_ ’ A clammy hand grasping your ankle drove your body into full panic mode. Everything seemed loud. Your breaths, especially. Loud and fast. Confusing. Dizzying. Your heart beating.

                You had no clue how you’d shaken off that grip on your leg- maybe it was never particularly tight. Maybe you’d been kicking and screaming. It all sort of blurred. You glanced around frantically. Options? Random door? Window? Even while you were freaking out, you knew even _you_ wouldn’t make a three-story jump. Reckless, not stupid. Between dying by jumping or dying by zombie infection- well… you were going with infection. At least it’d sound better in the obituary.  You ducked into the room, slamming the door and leaning against it, using the second to catch your breath, and gather your thoughts. Zombies weren’t real. Right? Right. You’d just stumbled onto some type of weird death cult gathered out in the woods, that liked to dress up as corpses.

                You blanched. Was that… _really_ better?

                Your nails scratched against the door. “I should’ve kept my _fucking bat._ ” You murmured under your breath. It wouldn’t have helped and you knew it. As soon as the first one effortlessly dodged your swing, there wasn’t any hope of fighting. But the thought of having it made you feel better, that’s for sure. “Just- be brave. Zombies? People? Who cares. Fuck ’em. Fuck ‘em right up.” You forced yourself to ignore the way your hands traitorously trembled as you reached for the door knob. Everything was quiet. So quiet… And that silence only accentuated the heavy steps thundering your way. Very… _pissed off_ sounding steps. With how loud they were, it could have been your heart leaping up from your chest and you would’ve never known the difference. Despite your bravado, you immediately found yourself grasping the door knob, tensing every muscle in your body to ensure that door stayed shut.

                The steps only grew more intense- an unidentifiable static charged the air around you. Thoughts ceased and you held your breath, and, god, everything had gone numb. Did those scratches still hurt? Was the sun still up? Nothing registered. Nothing could. Just the feeling of that oppressive presence encroaching on you. Like a trapped rat.

                Then… your shaking stopped.

                But not of your own volition. The doorknob slipped from her grip, and the terror welling up from your chest would’ve made you sob had you not bit your tongue. Your nerves were tingling, skin was _crawling,_ an itch that perforated through your skin, deep down through the muscle and sinew, and blood and guts past the bone. Through to your _being._ You didn’t even know what that meant, and it made your head spin trying to decipher it- _or maybe that was from holding your breath._ You didn’t have the time to think about it, as the air was suddenly forced from your lungs. Up and down- in an instant. The sound of the wood floors cracking beneath you was deafening- drowning out even the deep yells you could’ve sworn you heard from behind the door but was too distracted by the pain to care.

                It’d be an understatement to say that everything hurt. Splinters and planks from what used to be the floor where embedded in your back- you could _feel it_ when you breathed, and lord, mother of _fuck_ did it hurt. You rolled over, grasping for anything around. As soon as the wood stopped digging into your flesh though, you just laid down on your stomach. You’d stand- you’d stand _eventually_. You coughed, startled at the blood that spewed out and dripped down your chin. “Wha-?” Your… tongue? That was more comforting than the possibility of cracking your jaw open, despite the dull pain in your mouth.

 You clawed at the floor, dragging yourself toward the door. Your body had never felt heavier, but god, you weren’t going to die _here._ Not in this abandoned mansion. Not alone. You had to just…

                “A HUMAN?” When had your vision blurred? You tensed, but immediately whimpered from the action. The rational part of your brain screamed at you to hush- maybe there was still a chance they wouldn’t find you and they’d… go away? You could only hope.

                Those hopes were immediately dashed as the door creaked open, and a startled gasp filled your ears, “OH MY STARS. YOU CAN’T JUST _ATTACK_ THE HUMAN! THEY’RE FRAGILE!” You tried to stop yourself from crying as it neared. You failed. You felt the tears stream down your face and mix with the blood and saliva and snot. This was it, wasn’t it? You were going to die all alone here. No one would ever find you. Your friends would hate you, and your memory would fade into nothing, wouldn’t it? “ARE YOU ALRIGHT…?”

                A gloved hand through your hair put you down. You laid your head on the floor, labored gasps evening out into spluttering breaths.

                _This is how you die._


	2. Something Was Changing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who knew falling out of windows, getting thrown through the floor, and poking the bear could make so many friends?

You always thought that death would be cold. That after all the pain faded, you’d be left alone with your thoughts, and crushed by the emptiness of never being. You’d be trapped in purgatory, for the rest of eternity, stuck thinking back on past regrets and reliving every agonizing moment you tried your damnedest to forget, but… it wasn’t.

                It was so warm. The pain that seared through you fizzed away, leaving only a dull ache in its wake. And… it wasn’t silent, either. You couldn’t make out exact words, but you were completely aware of the voices that would gather around, from time to time. The zombie cultist, you figured. If they really _were_ haunting this place, then maybe dying made you attached to them. Maybe dying here is what connected them in the first place? Maybe you’d be haunting it, too then.

                _You_. A fake ghost hunter. How ironic.

                The thought was enough to make you chuckle. A miniscule tickle in your chest, initially, that quickly escalated into full body chortles, making the pain that dulled flare back up and cause you to cringe. “Haha—ha- _ho_ , fuck…” You reluctantly opened your eyes, taking stock of your surroundings. The room was dark, and barren. You noted a window to your side- curtains pulled back and slightly ajar. Not that you’d be scaling any walls with your back as it was, but… it was good to be aware of all possible options. You pushed yourself up, ignoring how every nerve in your body pleaded with you not to, instead focusing on the room around you. You limped your way over to the window, pushing it all the way open and sticking your head out of it. You stared at the forest…

                And the forest stared back.

                Trees for miles. Only the outlines of their leaves fluttering against the skyline stood out. Other than the moon, there wasn’t another light in sight. You blinked, feeling your grip on the window sill tighten. It had to be midnight- two- at the latest. “Those fuckers actually _left_ me here!” You instinctually went to reach into your jacket pocket to pull out your phone, but paused when you only grasped the air. Your hoodie was… gone? You looked down, realizing it wasn’t only the jacket, but your shirt was also missing. Instead, there was bandaging going around your abdomen, and you recognized how it squeezed you when you breathed. You twisted your spine to get a glance at your back, but cut the action immediately, hissing when the pain flared up again. Okay. So, either you really were dead, and were on some weird “The Lovely-Bones” shit where you only thought you were alive, and would realize you were a ghost when something jogged your memory… _Or_ there actually was someone in the mansion with you, who’d treated your wounds (nice) and had taken off your clothes to do it (less nice).

                Neither was preferable.

                You sighed, tapping your fingers against your side. Plan. Plan? “Find my jacket, go out the front door?” Your face dropped. Yeah, right. You didn’t even know what room you were in right now, let alone if you could get to the front without running into anyone else. If they caught you, you couldn’t run this time…

                “easier said than done, i’d say.”

                You gasped, whirling around to face the voice. There it was again, that smell of smoke. You nearly launched yourself out the window, how you stumbled backward, but a tight grasp on your wrist kept you grounded. “H-holy fuck-!”

                “careful.” The first thing that caught your attention was the light red ember of the cigarette, hanging from his jaw. Then the rest of the face rendered into your mind. You stared owlishly- a… skeleton. No flesh to be spoken of here, just a pearly, ceramic-like bone. An animated skeleton had you by the wrist right now. Your gaze flickered down to your wrist, tracking the long, bony fingers curled around it, keeping you steady. You had so many questions rushing through your head, that they all just blurred into a solid ‘?????’ in your mind. You felt your breath catch in your chest, but when you opened your mouth… nothing came out. Not a scream, not a gasp. No words. _Nothing._ You just met those half-lidded (what?) eyesockets, slack-jawed and speechless. A skeleton. “i know you’re in _pane_ but jumping through the window’s not the answer. c’mere, human.”

                You stumbled into the skeleton, colliding face-first into his chest. You grasped at the orange jacket, clutching it to regain your leverage when your fingers slipped into the spaces of what you presumed were ribs underneath the clothes. The skeleton inhaled sharply, grabbing your hands and holding them in his own. “watch that, ‘lright?”

                “…I’m uh- I didn’t meant to-” You stared at his hands, then yours, recalling the sensation of his ribs beneath the jacket. It wasn’t just elaborate stage makeup, or some human cultists or something- those were _actual ribs_ you just felt. “Are you actually—like _real_ right now?” You observed the hands holding yours again, closely this time- phalanges, metacarpals. Little divots at all the joints where they connect. A hint of the ulna and radius peeking out from underneath the sleeve- there was even a gap between them.

                “pretty real.” The skeleton shrugged passively, giving himself a brief pat down, as if to confirm his claim. He looked down at you, smirking at your wide-eyed stare. Tilting his head just slightly, he cleared his throat before quietly venturing, “not scared, are you?”

                You pulled your hands to your chest, pulling at the bandages around your torso. Scared? Were you shivering…? Couldn’t have been. More likely that the rest of the world was shaking, wasn’t it? “I’m not- no, I just-” Those curious eyesockets made you feel so small and… _naked,_ in a way. Inquisitive, but also… knowing. Seeing right through you. Yet… giving you the chance to explain yourself- like it made a difference what you said. Was this the final judgement? “Am I going to die?”

                His eyesockets widened, and he chuckled slightly as he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, “no,” The way his voice drawled slightly made you question if he was being honest. And even so, you found yourself stepping away from the window, deeper into the dark room, eyes fixated on that bright little light on the tip of his cigarette. It was hypnotic, relaxing in its own, peculiar sort of way. Watching him take a drag was… interesting. You watched his chest expand, as if there were organs beneath that hoodie, and all the smoke was expelled not just through his jaw but through his nasal cavity as well. If he really was only a skeleton, then what was the appeal of smoking? “been looking like you want to jump out of your skin, human.”

                His voice was like a bucket of cold water doused over your head. “Might look like _you_ if I did that.” You forced your hands to your sides, exhaling as you approached him, “So—what are you?” You’d noticed his height before, when he kept you from falling out the window, but now that you were standing on your own in front of him, he seemed… huge. Overbearingly so. He easily had at least a head on you, and though it was difficult to tell through the padding of his hoodie, he appeared to be slouching. You wouldn’t deny that it was fitting, though. His overall demeanor was unconcerned and… blasé, if nothing else. Whatever he was, he apparently didn’t want you dead, so you let yourself breathe easy.

                Silence. He observed you for a long moment before mumbling under his breath, “…weird. thought classic said monsters were on the surface in this one…” He stroked his jaw absently, and you set your hand on your hip. His words were low, but you caught the important parts- ‘ _monsters’,_ and _‘surface’._

                “Surface- _what_? What?” Your gaze drifted down the skeleton- dressed in a blindingly orange hoodie, some khaki shorts that left his kneecaps, tibia, and fibula exposed and some sneakers that were lazily knotted. You’d seen a variety of monsters before, but never skeletons. You were mostly familiar with Mettaton, and occasionally seeing the Royal Family on television- but who wasn’t, in this day and age? You folded your arms, tilting your head just slightly- it was more comforting if that’s what he and his buddies were, but that just raised a plethora of new questions. “…The hell are you doing here?”

                The skeleton chuckled, “now that you _mansion_ it, i guess i haven’t really been minding my _manors_ have i?”

                You sighed, shrugging slightly, “I don’t really care, but I thought monsters sta- _wait a fucking second._ ” You looked up at him, eyebrows furrowing as you tapped your fingers against your arm, “Was that a goddamn pun?” You weren’t sure how it was possible, but the skeleton grinned. A subtle change, where the bottom parts of his eyesockets raised slightly (??) following the curve of his teeth into this self-satisfied little smirk. He didn’t even need to say anything for you to get the answer. “Ugh my god.” You pushed your hair back, away from your face, sucking air through your teeth as you tried your best to process this sudden spike of anger and disappointment that you felt for a total stranger. “Ughhh. Agh!”

                He was laughing, despite himself, before he could help it. Now _that_ was a reaction. It almost made up for almost murdering him with a bat earlier. Almost. “didn’t think it’d be that much of a _pun_ ishment for you.”

                You turned your back, shuffling back toward the window, making as much of a show of trying to escape as your limited movement would allow, “Nope. I’m leaving. No more.” You leaned against the window, “ _Manors._ You should be ashamed of yourself-” You paused, “Got a name, skeledude?”

                He raised a browbone at the tonal shift, but decided it’d be better for everyone if he simply dismissed it. “sure i do. it‘s pa-” His jaw abruptly clicked shut. “stretch.” He’d _known_ about the alternative timelines and universes, but it was still somewhat of a struggle getting used to the fact that there were multiple other Papyruses, technically. He was lucky that he already had given up on life as he knew it, otherwise he would’ve had an existential breakdown when trying to distinguish himself from the others. In the end, getting dragged here was just sort of comical.

                “Stretch.” You repeated softly. Peculiar name, but considering the monsters you’d seen before, that wasn’t too surprising. “Cool. I’m (Y/N).” You extended your hand to the skeleton, offering a lopsided grin.

                Stretch stared at the hand for a moment. He couldn’t deny that there was just something weird and eerie about this. The moonlight at your back, casting your face in shadow. The hand reached toward him, and a casual smile to rival his own over your features. _Something_ strange, yet he couldn’t really place it. After a second, though, his paranoia passed and he took your hand in his. Before he could even open his mouth, the startled yelp and you yanking your hand away made him chuckle, “total _shock_ meeting a new friend out here, isn’t it?” He lifted his hand to show off the joy buzzer strapped to palm.

                You snorted, “Oh, you fucking _dick-!_ ” You looked down at your palm, stifling your chortles as you looked back up at him. “I _like_ you.”

                He blinked, before grinning at the opportunity. “ _sparks_ are really flyin’ between us, huh?”

                Your face twisted with an exaggerated annoyance, as you groaned, “I changed my mind.”

                There was silence as he studied you. You’d asked what _he_ was doing here, but _your_ presence was just as curious. Judging by the disrepair of this place, clearly no one lived here, and hadn’t for… who knows how long. Sans and Papyrus had brought them all out here a few days earlier, after explaining the circumstances, and… it had been so out of the way that no one even stumbled across it. _They_ barely found it. So, what were you doing here, clearly unperturbed after having been thrown through the floor? And by yourself?

                Before he could voice any of his questions, a familiar voice echoed through the old walls, “PAPY!” The steps heading toward them were self-assured and heavy. You tilted your head slightly- those steps weren’t the same ones you heard before, when you were cowering behind the door. Similar, in a way. Strides were a lot shorter from what you could tell. The door flew open, and from the shadow of the hallway, two bright blue eyelights blinked at the two of you, “THERE YOU ARE!” The shorter skeleton bounded over, eyes gaining blue stars when he looked over you, “HUMAN! YOU’RE AWAKE! NO DOUBT THANKS TO MY MIRACULOUS HEALING!”

                You hesitated, unsure what to make of the small, round skeleton. He was somehow chubby, judging by the slight bulge of his clothing, but if Stretch was anything to go by, wasn’t he… literally just bones? Then again, he was a monster, and had glowing star eyes, so maybe you shouldn’t question these things too much. “Healing?”

                The cute, short one nodded, kindness and sincerity just rolling off him in waves. It was completely contrary to Stretch and instilled this urge to protect in you. Or… hug. Yeah, hug, definitely. He looked soft. “OF COURSE. DIDN’T YOU NOTICE?” He gestured to the bandages before flushing slightly and averting his gaze, “I- I DIDN’T LOOK! I’M FAR TOO MAGNIFICENT TO BE SOME KIND OF PERVERT.”

                You’d nearly forgotten that you were topless. The sports bra and bandages were an adequate enough substitute, but… yeah. Still weird. “Oh right.” You said flatly, “Could I have those back, by the way?” You were positive your phone was in your pocket, and if it wasn’t shattered, then it was your only way back. Well, that and a hike through the woods- but at 3 AM? No, thank you.

                “we don’t have ‘em.” Stretch said simply, prompting an unfettered sigh from you. What did they even do with them, way out here? Sell them? Burn them? Where, who and why? This place is literally in the middle of nowhere.

                “…You don’t have them.” You repeated, unenthused. You looked between the two, before sighing, “Alright. Some notes-” You pushed yourself off from the window sill, “It’s pretty damn weird to take off someone’s clothes. I don’t know about monsters, but with humans—that’s not how we do things-”

                “THERE WAS BLOOD ALL OVER YOUR CLOTHES, HUMAN!” The louder one crossed his arms thoughtfully, “I WAS SURE THAT YOU HUMANS NEEDED IT FOR ALL YOUR… INSIDE PARTS. BUT YOU SURE LOST A LOT.”

                Well, couldn’t argue with that logic. It did make sense that they’d take it all off to wrap up your back, but… even if it was covered in blood, why couldn’t they at least… give them back? “We do, actually.” You tapped your foot, “…And my name is (Y/N).”

                The skeleton’s eyes widened. “INTRODUCTIONS? ALREADY??” He stood up straight, bones softly clicking with the action as he made his proud stance, “WELL _I_ AM THE MAGNIFICIENT SANS!!”

                “blue.”

                “WHAT?”

                “you’re _blue_ now, bro.”

                “PAPYRUS?!” Sans’ horrified expression made you smile despite your utter confusion at the situation, “YOU CAN’T JUST GIVE AWAY MY ATTACKS!!” Stretch looked, for a brief moment, as if he wanted to argue, but in the end, he simply shrugged, nonplussed at Sans’ extreme reaction.

                From where you stood, it seemed like Stretch (or… was it Papyrus?) was the older brother to Sans. He looked at him with this sort of… endearing kind of adoration. You didn’t quite understand it really, but if Sans had really healed you with his magic (shit, monsters were so cool…), and Stretch could look so… _soft-_ despite being literal bones, then… maybe they weren’t so bad. They definitely weren’t bad. “Well, good to meet you, Sans. Pretty rad of you to heal me, too.”

                “yeah. my bro’s pretty _sans_ ational.” Stretch drawled with a lackadaisical shrug.

                “ONE DAY. CAN WE PLEASE. JUST HAVE. _ONE DAY_?!” Sans dropped his face into his gloved hands, moaning with agony. “UGHH. YOUR PUNS ARE GOING TO KILL ME.”

                “...That one hurt pretty damn bad.” You sighed, running a hand absently through your hair.

                “heh. ya think _that_ hurts, toots?” The boney finger trailing up your back, over the bands around your core registered before the voice did. The slight pressure made you jump, instantly ball your fist and swing. The reminder of pain that shot through your body came too late, but you bit back the tears, instead searching the back of your pain-hazed mind for every swear you knew.

                Your breath caught as you were suddenly jerked upward, squirming as the fizzle of deep red magic penetrated through your skin. You swung again at the voice, but forced yoursekf to sit still when a flurry of sharp bones were pointed straight at you. “unless ya got a deathwish; **d o n ‘ t .** ”

                It took a moment for you to calm yourself enough to observe the new skeleton. Now that you were looking, it was clear he was the red mass that you’d fell over earlier. A deep red eye light, sharp golden tooth, cracks across his skull. Even though he was wearing mostly black, he just… _emanated_ red. Perhaps it was the magic that was holding you up right now. After your initial fear, faded, though, the annoyance set in. Would they have really healed you and bandaged you up, just to kill you right after? No. He was just being a goddamn edge lord. Convincingly, but you weren’t buying it. Sharpening your gaze, you squirmed in the air, “Put me _down_ , you fuck cunt!”

                “damn, toots. got a mouth, doncha?” His eyesockets lowered, a lazy grin spreading over that smug, edgy face, before he turned his attention to Stretch, “didn’t invite me to yer little get together?”

                “classic thought you’d kill her.” Stretch sent a pointed look toward you, as if to cement his point.

The skeleton with the black coat shrugged slightly, not contesting Stretch’s claim. He probably would have. Which reminded him why he was even in here. “yeah, yeah. even if i _don’t,_ the boss might.” He looked grinned slightly, “looks like he did a number on ya ‘lready.”

                “BEING THROWN THROUGH THE FLOOR WILL DO THAT.” Sans stated, in a tone so matter of fact, you had to wonder if this was even real right now. There were three skeletons- maybe five, if “Boss” and “Classic” were also skeletons, just surrounding you in an old abandoned mansion. Maybe that’s why your friends never came back- you were already dead, and this is just what it was like to die. That’s probably why your phone was missing. No calls from the afterlife- these were your friends now. This was it.

                “Hey, you little bitch- put me down!” You huffed, folding your arms. Not that you didn’t like floating- it’d probably be cool in any other circumstance, but his magic was… uncomfortable. Oppressive, angry. Spread all over you like fire. Got under your skin like splinters. Mixed with the fizzle of acid.

                His red eye flared as he looked at you again, “who’re ya calling a little bitch?!”

                “ _You,_ motherfucker!” His voice was gravelly as he growled, pulling you toward his face with his magic. Only then did you realize how… _big_ he was. You weren’t touching the ground- he was actually taller than you. And he was…wide, too. Far bigger than Sans was.

                “that’s it, i’m gonna fuckin’ _obliterate_ ya!” The fluff of his coat rose with his words, and as much as you tried to be intimidated… it completely ruined his edge.

                “Aww, big ol’ fwuff lord’s gonna kill me?” You reached down, petting the ridge of his hoodie, patronizingly scratching the base of his skull in the process.

                “don’t ya-!” He choked at your sudden touch, going rigid at the feeling of your nails on his skull. He tried to refrain. He really, truly did. But, damn if he didn’t always melt at touches like that. The low rumble from his chest could’ve initially been mistaken for a growl, but with how he froze up… you immediately recognized it.

                “You’re purring. Oh my fucking god, monsters purr! This is the best thing ever.” You abruptly hit the ground, ass first, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mind, even with the pain. If you were getting obliterated, it apparently wasn’t today.

                “piss off.” He growled, pulling up his hood. Shuffling back just slightly. Who knew that monsters glow red when they’re embarrassed? You wished you had your phone to take pictures.

                From the ground, you chuckled, “You got a name, kitty-cat?”

                “not fuckin’ _that_!”

                “I could’ve called you pussy.”

                “fucking stars, i’m gonna _murder_ ya.” It looked like that glowing was getting worse. Or maybe the sun was coming up. You liked to think it was the glowing.

                “I just wanted your name.”

                He sank into his jacket, somehow looking small despite his stature. “you first.” When you stood up again, you couldn’t help but laugh. Tonight had certainly been an ordeal, but… you liked them all, so far. Even this edge lord.

                “(Y/N).” You reached out, offering your hand.

                “…red.” He shook your hand, briefly before immediately drawing it back, and shoving it deep into his pocket. “guess yer not _too_ bad, kid.” He mumbled reluctantly. The sound of stomping rattled the old walls, and you immediately recognized it as the ones from before. Red looked toward the hallway. “aw shit.”

                “…Uh?”

                “it’s the boss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, bet you thought it was Classic Paps who saved you, didn't you?? Nope! Blue!


	3. Thunder Was Crashing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter the Boss!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a real good month if you're a fan of my writing, apparently. I'm suddenly inspired for the Haunted, so hopefully I manage to keep it up for a bit.

The steps coming your way immediately made your heart leap up into your throat. Last time you heard them, you went _through the fucking floor._ “Any chance he… uh, _won’t_ murder me?” You found yourself backing toward the window- you knew you’d never make it to the ground safely, but in the event that you were about to be _literally **murdered**_ , maybe taking your chances with gravity wouldn’t be so bad.

                “nada.” Red grumbled, the apparently permanent grin on his face making the blasé statement that much more alarming. After sending a distressed look to both Stretch and Sans, you huffed, pushing your hair back as you internally panicked.

                “Shit. _Fuck._ **Cool** _._ **_Great_** _._ ” You turned around bracing yourself to jump out the window, “ _Weeellp_ , it was nice meeting yo-” Your statement was cut short as the room door burst open, causing the walls to shake from the impact.

                “YOU _IMBECILES_!” The voice made you freeze. Not necessarily in fear, but you just _had_ to see what kind of person could possibly produce such a sound. You could only describe it as… a shark, revving a chainsaw… in a thunderstorm. And when those glowing red eyes emerged from the shadows… you weren’t too surprised that you weren’t far off. That skeleton was easily taller than Stretch, even from across the room, and was adorned in angular, jet-black armor, only broken up by the tattered red scarf around his neck. A section of his spine was exposed, as well as the peaks of his pelvis, almost startlingly white against the black of his clothes. 

                You couldn’t have hindered that breath if you tried, “Holy shit.” Every feature on him was sharp, and… _dangerous_. And like Red, he also had a prominent scar- what looked like deep claw mark over his eye socket. “And I thought _Red_ was the edge lord. Oh my _god_.”

                The pointed glance you received hardly registered, but the disbelief at whatever the hell was happening right now just completely decimated your ability to care, “the fuck’s that ‘sposed to mean?”

                “SANS.” It took three steps for the shark to cross the room- and just like one, he seemed drawn to blood. Before your self-preservation instinct properly kicked in and you could scuttle out the window, he grabbed you by the forearm, lifting you into the air like you weighed nothing, completely ignoring your kicking. “I’M GOING TO GIVE YOU _THREE SECONDS_ TO EXPLAIN WHY THIS HUMAN ISN’T _DEAD._ ”

                “heh, well y’see, boss-” Red scratched at the back of his skull, pulling at the furred ridge of his hoodie as he mumbled out some sort of half-assed explanation. The sharp one just rolled the dark red eyelights deep in his eyesockets before snorting.

                “HMF. I SEE I WILL HAVE TO SET AN EXAMPLE.” He narrowed his gaze in a manner you could only describe as condescending, “LET THIS BE THE _LAST TIME, SANS._ ” The sharp bones that Red had formed were back, and before you could even attempt to defend yourself, were piercing your chest in a matter of seconds.

                The pain that seared you was simply incomparable.

                Unlike the cuts and gashes that were down your back, the bones didn’t hurt _physically_ when they’d touched you. It started as a fizzle on your skin, like dipping a hand in seltzer water- harmless. Small and localized, limited only to the places where the bones connected- but once they passed through your flesh, they hit places you didn’t know it was even possible to hurt. In ways you couldn’t even comprehend. Like realizing the world has no place for you. Like knowing, deep inside, all your efforts are worthless. Like that feeling when you realized it was time for you to put down your cat. Stop her pain, but knowing she’d never be with you again.

                It was just this sinking feeling, deep in the pit of your chest. It hurt, but not in the way where you wanted to scream and cry… More like you just wanted to quit. Give in. Drown in the thoughts you warded off day after day. Louder and louder, the thoughts got, blaring, not just in your head- but _everywhere._ Echoes of your own voice, telling you to quit, and then-

                They stopped.

                “hey, how’zabout we _don’t_ kill the human,” Stretch’s drawl was drowned out by the clatter of bones shooting up from the floor, knocking away the ones embedded in your chest. You gasped, startled at the feeling of your own body, the beating of your own heart. Why was everything so loud? Was this what hell felt like? You clutched fruitlessly at the fabric of your sports bra, trying desperately to get rid of the lingering twinges of magic you could’ve sworn were clinging to your skin.

                “SILENCE, YOU PATHETIC _COPY_.” With a vicious snarl, he raised his hand, pointing it at Stretch. Before you could figure out where it came from, a vibrant red beam of what you could only assume was magic was being shot at him. A scorch mark on the wall made you suddenly very concerned- you might somehow survive those bones through your chest (you know, if you weren’t dead _already_ ), but if the structural integrity of this place was compromised, you _definitely_ wouldn’t survive it crashing down.

                “me? a fake? now that’s just _imposter_ ble.” Stretch’s hands were suddenly on your sides, gently tugging you back into his ribs. You shook your head, trying to comprehend how exactly he got there- wasn’t he just beside the wall? Whatever. Opportunity was there, better not waste it. You took a breath, preparing yourself for the imminent pain as you yanked your wrist from the tight grasp. His grip had loosened once Stretch moved, and you were grateful for the distraction. Stretch glanced down at you in his grasp for just a moment. Something inquisitive and faraway was in his gaze as he looked over you but just as quickly as it was there, it was gone.

                “ **YOU DISGUST ME**.” Another beam whizzed past your head and you instinctively flinched, grasping Stretch’s hoodie.

                “you’re not really one to roll with life’s _pun_ ches, huh?”

                “SAY ANOTHER ONE, I _DARE_ YOU.”

                You swore those beams were getting bigger. Somehow, Stretch seemed completely unconcerned. Either they _couldn’t_ hurt him, or that thing he was smoking was the most well disguised blunt you’d ever seen. “I- uh, think you’re pissing him off. More than he was already.”

                “CLEARLY.” The large skeleton deadpanned, before standing up straight once more, spine clicking quietly with the movement. “UNHAND THE HUMAN AND I’LL MAKE YOUR DEATH QUICK.” You weren’t sure how exactly you identified the disgusted sneer on his face, but there it was, clear as day.

                “mm...” Stretch took a long drag, and when he exhaled, smoke didn’t just leave from his jaw, but from his nasal cavity as well. It was… slightly jarring. “nah. finder’s keepers.”

                “DEFIANT FOOL!” You couldn’t help but cringe, “FOR YOUR INSOLENCE, I’LL SHOW YOU THE TRUE WRATH OF THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS!” The crackle of magic in the air would be astounding if it wasn’t murderous and aimed right at you. You closed your eyes, swearing if you held Stretch’s jacket any tighter, it’d rip and you’d end up stabbing your own palms with your nails. You knew the beams were coming from the light behind your eyelids, but oddly enough, never felt any pain- physical or… otherwise.

                “ENOUGH OF THIS, ALREADY!” Sans’ voice was oddly serious for the cheery tone you’d come to expect out of him. When you finally opened your eyes again, the wall of bones blocking the beams was both comforting and unnerving. Magic was cool as shit, but you’d had enough of it for one morning. “WE’RE ALL GOING TO GET ALONG NOW! RIGHT NOW.”

                “SILENCE, BRAT!” Boss roared, “I HAVE NO INTEREST IN YOUR PETTY IDEAS OF FRIENDSHIP!”

“HEY!! I AM _NOT_ A BRAT! I’M _RAD,_ LIKE (Y/N) SAID!”

                “IF YOU WERE THIS SO CALLED ‘RAD’ THEN WHY HAVE YOU FAILED TO CAPTURE THIS HUMAN? YOU’RE AS USELESS AS THEY COME!”

                “YOU’RE NO BETTER!! GUARDSMEN ARE SUPPOSED TO _CAPTURE_ HUMANS, NOT MURDERIZE THEM!”

                At some point in their conversation, Stretch set you down, shockingly calm despite everything that was going on. You’d yet to let go of his hoodie for your own safety. Though… now would probably be the best time to go for the door, if you wanted to. They were all gathered here. Or… most of them were gathered here. Probably.

                “ya good, toots?” Red’s voice caused you to tense, despite yourself. After a second of self-assessment, you nodded slowly.

                “I’m fine. I think.” You squinted at him, “No thanks to _you_ , kitty.”

                “i- i told’ya not t’call me that.” He mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets, “fer fuck’s sake…”

                There was that glow again. He was… surprisingly easy to fluster, for how outwardly hostile he looked and acted. Maybe the other edgelord was the same way? Always one way to find out, you supposed.

                Before you could second guess yourself, you stepped up, grabbing the edgelord’s hand, tugging it slightly to get his attention. “Hey!” You’d never felt smaller in your life than in that instant he turned and looked down on you. “You’re pretty cool too, you know. In that edgy super-villain, kill anyone in your path, kinda way.”

                You felt that static in the air, the beams you were sure would probably disintegrate you in seconds, and even then… they didn’t fire. You barely realized you were holding your breath until you opened your eyes and met the skeleton’s gaze head on. And he was just… staring.

                “N…NYAH HAH. YES. OF COURSE, YOU WOULD THINK THAT, FEEBLE HUMAN.”

                And then he grinned. A narcisstic, self-absorbed sort of smile, that was basking in his own greatness. Despite all the sharp edges of his face, it was just… gleeful. Innocent, somehow. If someone who was just about to outright murder you could possibly be innocent.

                “ANY HUMAN WHO IS CAPABLE OF RECOGNIZING MY SUPERIORITY CAN LIVE. IF ONLY TO SPREAD WORD OF MY GREATNESS TO OTHERS. AND SOW FEAR OF MY NAME AMONG THEM… NYAH HAH HAH!”

                “Holy shit, that _fucking worked_.” You mumbled under your breath, pressing your hands to your chest, as if to verify that you were still alive. You sent a glance back toward Stretch and Red, and was met with a single shrug from both of them. “So… what’s _your_ name, Supreme Lord of Edge?”

                “ _I_ AM THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS- HEAD STRATEGIST OF THE ROYAL KNIGHTS!” He paused, “HOWEVER. GIVEN THE CIRCUMSTANCES…” He shot a dirty glance at Stretch, before huffing, “I WILL ALLOW YOU TO CALL ME… SUPREME LORD.”

                “How about we break even, and I’ll call you Edge?” The look he gave you was exasperated at best, but not murderous, so it was undoubtedly a step up.

                “YOU PUSH YOUR BOUNDARIES, HUMAN...” He clearly wasn’t pleased, but in the end, he simply set his hands on his hips before sighing, “BUT FINE. IF YOU _MUST_.”

                As you exhaled, you realized how much stress these last few hours had put you through, but it seemed like the worst was over. This mansion was yours now. You conquered it, just like you said you would. And made some new friends to boot.

 

                You were laying across that old tattered couch downstairs, hands folded over your eyes as you listened to Sans and Edge argue about the superior monster idol. Edge insisted it was Mettaton, while Sans was utterly convinced that Napstabot was better in every conceivable way. It’d almost be cute watching them argue if it didn’t seem like Edge would snap at the slightest provocation. Ah, hell, who were you kidding? It was still kind of cute, like watching kids bicker. Even if one of them was a giant monster. Seriously, you couldn’t get over that absolute size of that fucker.

                The down time got you to wondering- why were they here, exactly? They all seemed just as bored as you were- if Red napping at your feet was any indication, and Stretch was… around? “Hey, Red.” You nudged the skeleton with your foot, chuckling a little when he snorted awake.

                “zz-huh? wha? whaddya want?” You couldn’t tell if his voice was gruff just because you’d woken him up or if that was just how he was by default.

                “Mind telling me what you guys are all doing out here? You obviously don’t live here.” Judging by the lack of shit to do, clearly, “And if you were exploring, why haven’t you gone home by now?”

                “ya got a problem with us bein’ here, toots?” His voice had an underlying heat, warning you to mind your own business, but you were never one to shy away from threats, “ya don’t own the place, do ya?”

                “Nope. It’s just… weird.” You sat up slightly, wincing when the arm of the couch poked you in the back. Yup. Still hurts. “Monsters don’t usually come this far out of Monster City.”

                “WAIT. WHY?” Sans looked up from his spot on the ground, completely dropping his interest in his heated debate with Edge, “ARE THEY NOT ALLOWED?”

                Why… was he asking you that? He _was_ a monster. He should know better than you, right? “No, it’s not a legal issue or anything. Just… boundaries, I guess? Like, humans usually stick to Ebott. Nothing forbids anybody going anywhere, but it’s just always been like that.”

                “whaddya mean, ‘always been’? are you tellin’ me that humans just let monsters build their own city after the barrier went down? just like that?” Red was completely awake now. He’d talked with Classic about the events of this timeline on the way out here, but if what you were saying was true, then… what??

                “What the hell are you talking about? What _barrier_?” You’d never spoken to monsters before this, but now you were completely lost. What version of history was he looking at?

                “toots. quit fuckin’ with me here. the goddamn barrier that sealed us monsters underground fer _centuries. that_ barrier.” He could see on your face that you weren’t joking. You had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. The silence as you all looked between each other was deafening. “ok. whaddabout the human ambassador. know who that is?”

                “Okay, consider my chain thoroughly yanked, Red. You got me. You win.” You raised your hands in mock surrender. Either you didn’t get the joke or one of you here was completely out of your mind. You’d gone through enough schooling to know the history of the city you lived in. If he was telling the truth, you were sure you’d at least _remember_ hearing about monsters being trapped Underground for any amount of time.

                Red scratched the back of his skull. Okay. _Something_ … wasn’t adding up here. “heh. heheh. ya bet’cher sweet ass i do.” Before you could question the strange reaction, he was off the couch and ambled off to go find Stretch. The lanky skeleton was sitting on the front porch, enjoying the last of his cigarettes in peace when Red interrupted him. “somethin’ ain’t right about this place.”

                Stretch blew smoke, sending his short counterpart a dull look. “you’re telling me.” He rested his jaw on his palm, staring out into the forest, “i’ve been tryin’ to piece together the events of this timeline. if the barrier’s been broken, like classic said, then (y/n) shoulda known _immediately_ we were monsters. if it only _just_ broke, then how could there be a monster exclusive city ‘lready? it’s been buggin me.”

                “i just spoke to ‘er. she never even hearda the barrier.” Red sat down, grunting at the creak of the porch. “an’ she ain’t fakin’ it, either. had no idea what i was talkin’ about.”

                The two sat in silence. It was hard enough being dragged through time and space to a universe that they were only vaguely aware existed. Meeting mirrors of yourself, each the same but different. Every time, same but different. “and speaking of _her…_ ” Stretch paused, wondering how exactly he wanted to word this. “your bro’s LOVE. it’s…”

                “maxed, yeah.” He followed. It was completely plausible that you just had an insane amount of HP. He hadn’t bothered checking your STATs- once Paps got his hands on you, he figured it wasn’t worth the effort. You were a goner, anyway. But the amount of punishment you must have taken directly to the SOUL- it was… alarming. “didja check ‘er?”

                “…i couldn’t.” He murmured around his cigarette. He kept his gaze forward, studying the fence like his life depended on it.

                Suddenly those bags under his eyes seemed much more prominent. More stressed. He’d never looked past a façade that mirrored his own before, but reading Stretch like that sparked… something in him. He refused to acknowledge what it was. “ _what?_ ”

                “it was just…” He gestured loosely with his free hand, as if it explained everything, “blank.” He closed his eye(sockets), snuffing out the remainder of his cigarette on the porch. “i could _feel_ it- like they shoulda been there. but i couldn’t _see_ anything.” He pulled at the sleeves of his jacket absently. That _void_ … was sort of haunting. He’d been trying to convince himself that it was a fluke- you were just an anomaly for whatever reason, but he couldn’t come up with an explanation good enough to settle his mind. And it was only going to get worse now that he was out of cigarettes. Great. He sighed for what he suspected was the million and tenth time before tapping his patella absently, hoping to keep his fingers busy. He’d just be disappointed if he tried digging through his pockets.

                There was the burning need to know nagging at the back of Red’s mind. Would he be able to see it? Or was it only Stretch whose abilities were being dampened? Was it you, or was it _him?_  From what he could tell, their magic was still fine- Paps had proved that. Hell, his own magic was in perfect working order. There was definitely something weird about this place. “what the fuck.”

               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was always my belief that Edge wouldn't take to other Papyruses kindly. A "THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE, NYAH!" sorta thing. So he especially hates Stretch. Plus he's a PAPYRUS that makes PUNS. What a nightmare.


End file.
